


What's In A Name?

by ChicagoSilence



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 12:06:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3809776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChicagoSilence/pseuds/ChicagoSilence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merrill makes a comment and Hawke does some damage control. All in all, Marian thinks she might just be getting through to Fenris. If only for a moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's In A Name?

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little drabble about Fenris' name. Takes place between Act II & III.

“I like your name.”

“Must you always have something to say?”

Hawke could hear the distaste in Fenris’ voice, though it was never that unusual whenever the elf opened his mouth. She had gotten used to it over the years, and she had also gotten used to the fact that whenever Merrill wanted to chat, Fenris would have nothing of it.

“Oh– well, I just– ‘little wolf’ is quite sweet. And you are¬–“

Merrill, sweet Merrill. Hawke understood that Merrill would not have known Danarius was the one to give Fenris the name, and what kind of power that must’ve held over the now free slave. She turned to look at the two of them, taking in the hunched shoulders of Fenris and how he looked like he was about to combust just at the thought of having to giving Merrill an answer.

“I personally think my name is better.” Marian cut in, hoping to divert the conversation long enough to interject Fenris’ next answer. 

Merrill turned her large eyes onto Hawke, hurrying forward to match her for step, “Oh! Yes, your name is quite lovely. ‘Marian’. It’s nothing I know the meaning of, in fact, you’re the only Marian I’ve ever met. Not that I’ve met that many humans anyway. Your names are so interesting. Did you know there was a merchant named Hubert? What an odd thing to call a child…”

Hawke eventually drowned out Merrill’s incessant rambling, instead somewhat slowing her pace to try and get Fenris’ attention, who had remained silent after the ordeal. She could see that Merrill was now talking excitedly to Varric, who flipped her off when Hawke couldn’t help but smirk that the dwarf had gained the Dalish elf’s full attention. 

“I do not need your pity, Hawke. I am fine.”

There it was. The broody, self-loathing tone that Hawke never really got tired of hearing. “Oh? Well, you at least have to let me ask the question first. Then you can answer. So, let’s start over. Are you all right?”

Fenris turned his green gaze onto her, narrowing his eyes as he tried walking a bit faster like Hawke would go away. Marian simply kept time with him, “If you wanted to have a power walking competition, you can’t cheat with a head start.” She pointed out, figuring that dropping the subject of his name was her best bet if Fenris was going to pointedly ignore her and act like he hadn’t been two seconds away from shoving a hand through Merrill’s chest to keep her quiet. 

Hawke kept her icy gaze on Fenris for a few more seconds, letting her pointed look set in before she looked ahead at the road, the gates of Kirkwall now only a few miles out. She wanted to understand– truly, she did. After their night and him running off like she was the worst lay of his life, Marian still couldn’t bring herself to just throw out her concern along with her heart like Fenris had tried to. He had his own problems that he liked to set ahead; like no one could understand the pain that lingered underneath his very skin. 

“It’s the only name I remember.” The words were quiet, but no less filled with the malice that was now truly a characteristic of Fenris. Hawke didn’t say anything, instead looking at him after a moment to show that he had her full attention. 

“If there is one thing that I could call mine, it was my name. It still is. I do not wish to have it known throughout cities, like yours,” he paused to run a gauntleted hand through his white hair, looking at the city as they got closer. “There is nothing else I remember. Though if she calls me little wolf again, I won’t promise nothing will happen.” His tone shut down what was left of his little confession, steeling his gaze like the conversation had never happened.

Hawke let their shoulders bump as they walked forward and into Kirkwall, a smirk playing at the edge of her lips as that feeling of fondness overtook her, “A name only gives little meaning to the whole package, doesn’t it? I admire who you’ve become, Fenris, and that speaks louder than any name could.” With that, she quickened her pace, leaving Fenris back to contemplate her words. It had sounded pretty good in her head, and Marian figured that it was all in a day’s work when it came to keeping her companions happy in any way possible. 

Fenris kept his mouth shut as Hawke went forward, and he briefly looked at the lyrium lines along his arm. He knew how he defined himself, and that was what had caused him to walk away from one of the only good things in his life. Perhaps now was the time he reconsidered his own perception.

At least until his sister called him Leto. And as Varric would say:

Well, shit.


End file.
